


Portions for Foxes

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camaro and Jeep appreciation, Dating, M/M, failed attempts at vandalism, hero worshiping, lacrosse referencing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rumours concerning Derek Hale's ass are surprisingly accurate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portions for Foxes

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt [ Stiles doesn't really remember Derek Hale that well; he graduated when Stiles was a freshman. Word is, he's come back home from college for break. Stiles doesn't really get what the big deal is, but all the girls at school (including his future wife Lydia) are going ga-ga over this guy. What is up with girls and the James Dean types, Stiles will never know. All the other guys in Stiles' class are getting pissed off too, and Stiles figures he should tell Derek to back off for the greater good. Derek agrees, but now Stiles seems to have caught his eye. Stiles, to his own horror, might actually be okay with this](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=983573#t983573).

Stiles is heading out to his jeep when he sees the infamous Camaro parked directly in his path. He takes a moment to appreciate the black sleek beauty of it. It's a pretty sweet car, though it's got nothing on his baby. His eyes gravitate to where she's parked, under the swaying branches of one of the larger willow trees on campus. Nothing but the best for his car.

A throat clears behind him. Stiles rocks on his heels self-conscious for being caught staring. "Oh sorry, man," he turns to face whoever has taken exception for him standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

He's greeted with none other than Derek Hale, Beacon Hills very own prodigal son. Stiles frowns, he thought he'd be taller from the way everyone's been going on about his return. Lydia was actually swooning at the lunch table, which was equally disheartening and amazing because she sat across from him while highlighting why Derek Hale's ass was perfect. He lost his appetite soon after Allison and Danny chimed in much to Scott and Jackson's unhappy glowers.

"You shouldn't be here," he finally says worrying his bottom lip between his teeth because Derek's giving him an odd look. Stiles is sure he overheard a couple of the guys on the lacrosse team planning on keying the Camaro while the other half were going to tee-pee the Hales' house. He glances back at the car to check that Derek's not going to pummel him for scratches. The car's still delightfully unmarred. His shoulders relax.

"It's my town," declares Derek with an air of possessiveness than on anyone else Stiles would call dickish but it seems to fit whatever vibe Derek is rocking.

"No, I mean, like there's a warrant out for you," Stiles warns because he's being a good Samaritan and his dad would be ashamed if he caught wind of his son harassing the town's golden boy.

Derek arches his left eyebrow and crosses his arms. Stiles is momentarily envious of his leather jacket. His hoodie seems woefully lacking in comparison. Maybe that's why Lydia's attracted to him. He does a mental calculation of the contents of his Batman piggy bank - it's still suffering from buying his new surfboard - which was totally worth it - so he doesn't see any new grandiose expenditures and he doubts his dad would shell out for a jacket. A new car battery, yes, but who's Stiles' kidding.

"The guys here kind want to kill for stealing the womenfolk," he says conspiratorially. "Because of your amazing ass and unbeatable lacrosse records. Though I should work on being known for other things. 'cause that's pretty superficial."

He's proud that he's done his civic duty and can retreat to his jeep and some curly fries and a milkshake before cramming for chemistry. Stiles turns but his hoodie is held back and he flails a bit to get his footing back.

"Hey, man, I just warned you, it's pretty poor manners to beat me up," he babbles, his arms pinwheeling in a ninjaesque move if he does say so himself. Derek lets go and Stiles straightens out his hoodie with a hunted look.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Derek almost growls. Stiles is nothing but disbelieving.

"Yeah, because you're just secretly handsy?" Stiles mutters, eying Derek.

Derek actually smirks. It's a shade below shit-eating and above rakishly handsome. Stiles can kind of see why Danny practically wrote an ode to his cheekbones.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

And Stiles has to laugh because that's all kinds of terrible.

"That works?" he snorts. "Man, I guess gossip really does inflate reality."

Derek gives him an actual pout. It's all pretty devastating. Though Scott could give him a run for his money. His puppy dog pouts are lethal if you haven't had a decade of building up an immunity. "You said you knew who I was."

"Everyone does," he says unimpressed. "But, dude, you need to work on your game. Dark and mysterious can only get you so much. I should know, I am repeatedly shot down by goddesses like Lydia Martin and I know I'm not remotely hot to gay guys, apparently my glibness and overall personality is an affront to almost everyone."

Derek gives him a perplexed look like Stiles is a special kind of anomaly that should be studied by CERN.

"You have me at a disadvantage," Derek says. "You know me, and I would have remembered meeting you."

"Stiles Stilinski," Stiles says and tries to ignore Derek's stare. He can totally feel a blush creeping up on him and he'd rather not embarrass himself publicly like that. He already fell into Danny's lap this morning trying to retrieving his highlighter's cap. He's filled his daily quota.

"Well, I should go. Can't be seen fraternizing with the enemy. Scott's thinking about egging your house," he says. "I mean, Miguel, is. I don't know a Scott. No siree. Though it'd be easier to just stick Jolly Ranchers to your car, it'd totally fuck up this sweet paint job," he trails off only to meet Derek's amused green eyes. His face flushes on principle.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"You did," Derek grins. "Inventive, you should tell Miguel."

Stiles winces.

"But since you're concerned for my safety, I think it's only fair for you to take me out for dinner," Derek says nonchalantly.

Stiles' eyes widen in disbelief. "What? No, I'm sure you can handle things fine," he says. "And I barely have enough cash to get my order of fries."

"Well I guess you'll pay for the next date," says Derek with a faux put-upon sigh. He clearly walks that line of bullshitting as finely as Stiles.

"Okay," nods Stiles because that seems fair only it doesn't make sense. "No wait, I'm not-"

The dawning horror of being accidentally dated is lost as Derek tugs on his arm, herding him to the passenger side of the Camaro. "You can tell me more about my lack of game over dinner."

Stiles is struck speechless as Derek shoots him a smile that reaches his eyes. He blames his stomach growling at the same moment Derek opens the car door for not putting up a fight at getting into the car. A free meal is a free meal.

His brain catches up to him half way to out of the school's parking lot to argue over Derek's choice in music. He steadfastly ignores the heady feeling of going on a date with _the_ Derek Hale. Apparently Stiles isn't immune to the Hale charm after all. Though his jeep totally beats Derek's car hand's down. Derek's unmanly squawk of protest at that is enough to push down Stiles' blush and bring back his flailing sarcastic personality. Derek doesn't seem to mind.

Lydia's going to be green with envy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sick with the flu so in my delirium, I trolled teenwolfkink meme. So hopefully they aren't too terrible fills. Titles are entirely based on what was playing on my iPod at that ungodly hour. Now to drown myself in fluids and Extra Strength Advil. The bit about Jolly Ranchers actually works. You're supposed to suck on the Jolly Rancher then stick it to the car, they're virtually impossible to pull off, if it rains that night, the candy will dissolve and leave pockets of ruined paint all over the car. My friend did that to some guy's car. I hang out with entirely too many guys, I'm like the only girl in my class of engineers, so they impart all these important revenge ideas, though their offers of beating up the guy that does me wrong is sweet. Scary. But sweet. Though sugar in the gas tank works too. Though that will totally fuck up the car. Kids, don't try that at home. Egg someone's house in the winter, the eggs freeze and are like impossible to remove. See, another tidbit from my friends. Wow, another reason not to get on their bad side. Though I will totally know who did it if it ever happened.... The term "dated" is a game me and my girl friends along with some of our guy friends play. Namely we talk about our interactions with the opposite sex and try to see if we've been "dated. A guy paying for your coffee? _Dated_. And offer to study alone? _Dated_. My friend Kara has been _dated_ unknowingly a lot. It's kind of hilarious. Her current boyfriend "dated" her for like five dates before she caught a clue. We totally think it should be a new reality TV show. It would be hilarious. Complete with people emerging out of nowhere to tell you "YOU'VE BEEN DATED!" Kind of like PUNK'D but more romantic. Unbeta'd so be kind. Comments are love! ♥


End file.
